Part Five

Brendon had tried not to read too much into the fact that Dallon didn't sit with him on the ride home from the game. Why would he? It's not like they were friends or anything. And Dallon was a popular guy. He was busy laughing and chatting with his other popular, athlete friends. Why should Brendon care?

Okay, he cared a little. But that didn't mean he hadn't been able to handle sitting alone and listening to his music. He was used to it. It's what people expected from a lone wolf like him.

By the time they got back to the school, Brendon had completely forgotten about Dallon. He was wrapped up in his music, exiting the bus quickly to trek home. The days in March might've been warmer, but the nights were certainly chilly. Brendon walked briskly through it. Without a car, this was pretty much his only option.

When he arrived home, his parents were already asleep. His father was asleep in his recliner and his mother was presumably in bed. He didn't dare make a sound as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

Brendon, being more than ready to collapse and sleep, did his usual routine of dropping his backpack and shoes by the dresser and flopping onto his bed. He didn't even want to change clothes. Just sleep.

But when he rolled over, his phone poked him painfully in the leg. He fished it out of his pocket and went to toss it aside. He almost did, but he noticed his messages. They weren't all just from Pete. There was a new one. From Dallon.

Brendon contemplated opening it for a moment, but decided he had no choice. The butterflies had returned.

Dallon: Hey! *monkey emoji*

Brendon couldn't help but grin at the little monkey emoji. The texts continued.

Dallon: You took off so fast when we got back, I didn't get a chance to tell you bye. Good thing I got your number ;)

Brendon's thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment. Should he sound witty in response? Flirty? Shy?

Brendon: Yeah, not like we go to the same school or anything ;)

He went for witty... and perhaps a little flirty. But now he had to wait for Dallon's reply. And Brendon was not good at waiting. He closed out of his messages, not wanting to watch for the pot to boil. He messed around on other apps, but realized being on his phone was just making him more anxious and eager. He decided to leave it on the bed and go get ready.

He scurried off to brush his teeth and strip down to his boxers for sleep. When he finally crawled back into bed, Dallon had only responded a minute ago.

Dallon: I guess you're right, smartass ;) but I also wanted to tell you that I got the party details. It's Thursday at Spencer Smith's house.

Spencer Smith. Brendon knew him. He went to their school and was the son of some rich doctors. A nice enough guy from what Brendon had heard. He was sure Spencer's place was massive. A perfect party location.

Brendon: A party on a Thursday?

Dallon: Spencer's parents leave for some conference on that morning. He's got the whole weekend until they come back, but thought his party was less likely to get busted if he had it on a Thursday. *shrugging emoji*

Brendon: Got it... do you mind if I bring a friend with me?

Brendon waited a moment, Dallon's text being a bit slower.

Dallon: I guess not. Who?

Brendon: Pete Wentz.

Dallon: You're friends with Pete Wentz? Not to sound offensive or anything, but he doesn't seem like your type.

Brendon's cheeks flushed immediately. Did Dallon think he and Pete were a couple?

Brendon: He's not, don't worry! We're just friends.

Dallon: Haha, I meant your type of friend. You know, he's loud and outgoing, you're not. But good to know you're available. ;)

Brendon's face was really on fire now. Smooth move, Weekes, he thought. Smooth move.

Brendon: Available for what? ;)

Brendon couldn't believe himself. He never knew he could flirt, let alone it actually work on someone. He was putting himself far more out there than he initially intended to. Perhaps that was just the Dallon Weekes magnetic pull?

Dallon: You'll find out at the party. ;) Night, Brendon.

Brendon: Night, Dallon.

Brendon set his phone aside on the nightstand and rolled over. He may have said goodnight, but he was far, far from sleep.

"Excuse me, what!?"

Who knew six little words could send Pete Wentz into such a frenzy.

"I said: Dallon invited me to a party," Brendon told him again as the two were walking outside. The second school day of the week had ended and Pete had been itching all day for Brendon to spill details about his bus ride with Dallon.

"That's your in, man!" Pete cried, excitedly. "He already deems you cool enough to party with. Now you have to work your magic and seduce that tall bastard!"

Brendon scoffed and rolled his eyes, "I'm not going to seduce Dallon. I might just want to get to know him, you know?"

"You mean fuck him," Pete smirked.

"No, I mean talk to him," Brendon said. "See if we have more in common than just music taste."

"More in common like... who likes to top?"

Pete totally deserved the shove that Brendon gave him. The asshole only laughed and ran ahead before Brendon could inflict more damage.

"You're a sick son of a bitch, you know that?" Brendon called up to him.

"I know!" Pete called back proudly.

The next day rolled around and Brendon found the closer it got to Thursday night, the more twitchy he got. So far, his Wednesday was pretty rocky. He bounced back and forth between feeling anxious and feeling... less anxious. But he was being a little more snippy than usual.

So he was a little less than thrilled about running into Principal Smucker in the hallway.

"Mr. Urie," The man forced a grin. "How are you doing, son?"

Brendon knew that was just code for 'staying out of trouble', but he, in turn, forced back a polite smile.

"I'm doing perfectly well, Mr. Smucker."

"Yeah? Well, that's great," The brick wall of a man folded his arms over his chest. "You know, Miss Knipe informed me of the little stunt you pulled the first week of your new club. I'll take it we won't have anymore incidents like that?"

"No, sir," Brendon said, putting on his best 'teacher's pet' face.

"Good," Mr. Smucker said firmly. He didn't so much as wave a goodbye before walking the other direction.

Brendon rolled his eyes when the principal was out of sight. He turned to head to class and ran right into Pete.

"What did Principal Sucker want?" Pete questioned, leaning around Brendon and glancing down the hall.

Brendon couldn't help but smirk at the nickname, "Just making sure I was being an idealistic student."

Pete shifted back and forth on his feet a bit, "You know the rumors about him, don't you?"

"What, that he's a tool? Pretty sure that's common knowledge," Brendon snorted.

"No," Pete said. He ushered Brendon to follow him out by the lockers. "That Sucker had to do with Jon being forced to leave freshman year."

Brendon's brow furrowed, interested, "What do you mean?"

"He didn't stop any of the bullying, never questioned any of the kids that picked on him and sent death threats," Pete explained. "The dude just... let it happen."

Anger began to bubble under Brendon's skin, "Are you kidding me? That jackass let a kid nearly get bullied to death? Like some homophobic-"

"Dude, shhhh!" Pete shushed him quickly, bouncing on his heels. "Look, you can scream at the sky and kick trash cans over it later, but we're in his domain now. He's like big brother."

Brendon still continued to brood over it, "Whatever. I always hated the guy, anyway."

In a heated state, Brendon took off to his next class. For the rest of the day, Brendon tried not to let this new found knowledge affect him. But he couldn't get it out of his head. How could someone, a school official no less, let something like that happened and get away with it? Normally, Brendon didn't care this passionately about things, but it was the pure injustice of it. He wanted something to be done, for Smucker to get fired and never be allowed to work with kids again. But he knew there was nothing he could do about it. And that was the part that bothered him the most.

It wasn't fair that people like him had to hide themselves. They lived in fear - even in a place where they should feel safe. Brendon had just as much right to love who he wanted as anyone else. Why should he have to conceal that from people?

Smack.

Oh.

That's why.

The fist that landed squarely against Brendon's nose hurt like a mother. It caught him off guard, and for a moment he had no idea what happened, but the pain was very much present.

"Hey, Urie."

Brendon blinked to find Ryan standing over his now hunched figure. He held his fist at his side like a loaded weapon, prepared to aim and fire at any moment.

"That was for getting invited to Spencer's party when I didn't," He proclaimed.

That was why he hit Brendon? What a baby.

Brendon straightened himself, holding his bleeding nose. This was where Brendon's bad mood and snippy attitude was going to get him in trouble.

"Not my fault I'm more popular than you, Ross," Brendon retorted, even though it was completely false. He just had an aching urge to get under Ryan's skin.

Ryan merely scoffed at him, "Who even invited you? Spencer? He's always been a sucker for charity."

Brendon didn't know if it was the pure adrenaline from being confronted so aggressively or the subconscious anger he still held towards Smucker and his injustice, but he regretted his next words as soon as they left his mouth.

"Dallon Weekes invited me, actually," Brendon told him with a smug look. "You know, star of the soccer team? Yeah, we're friends."

Ryan cocked an eyebrow. The look on his face, like gears turning in his mind, made Brendon's confidence falter.

"Friends, huh?" Ryan's lips curled into a grin. "Yeah, sure, Urie. I'll see you later."

He grouped his lackeys together and walked away, but not before he shot Brendon another smirk over his shoulder.

"Fuck!" Brendon cried in frustration. The halls were empty as it was now the end of the school day so there were no teachers around to reprimand him for his swearing. Brendon let the back of his head hit the lockers as he slid down it to the floor. He continued to hold his nose, not caring that he was getting blood on his old band t-shirt.

He'd lost all will to care in that moment. He didn't care about Ryan Ross. He didn't care about stupid principals. He didn't even care about the party.

All he wished for was for the shitty day to end so he could start over and hope for something better.